This Old Guitar And Me Lyrics
| Song | This Old Guitar And Me |
| Artist | Vince Gill |
| Album | Next Big Thing |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Gill | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| And the things that we've been through | |
| C.F. Martin built him | |
| Back in nineteen fourty-two | |
| I remember when we met | |
| I was only seventeen | |
| I spent all my college money | |
| On a half a dozen strings | |
| I thought my folks would kill me | |
| I found out I was wrong | |
| They said your future's written on your face | |
| When you sing those travelin' songs | |
| So we headed for Kentucky | |
| With a suitcase full of dreams | |
| My rough-out books, a few t-shirts | |
| A worn out pair of jeans | |
| Ooh... | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| We spent a lot of nights alone | |
| Well, sometimes we'd get lucky | |
| And take bar maid home | |
| One night stands for breakfast | |
| Two strangers with the blues | |
| We'd wake up in the morning | |
| And both feel a little used | |
| Well, home was just a highway | |
| We'd roam from town to town | |
| Just me and that old flattop | |
| Not caring where we're bound | |
| >From Maine to California | |
| With a five piece travelin' band | |
| Singin' songs about the hard times | |
| That face the common man | |
| Ooh... | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| Lord, we did the best we could | |
| One was born a sinner | |
| And one a piece of wood | |
| God sent a wooden angel | |
| To guide me on my way | |
| We were meant to be together | |
| Until my dyin' day | |
| Well, now my dearest old companion | |
| Lies underneath my bed | |
| Well, our travelin' days are over | |
| Man, but the memories fill my head | |
| Well, I've settled with my family | |
| Here in the hills of Tennessee | |
| To teach my children's children | |
| 'Bout this old guitar and me | |
| Ooh... |
| zuo ci : Gill | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| And the things that we' ve been through | |
| C. F. Martin built him | |
| Back in nineteen fourtytwo | |
| I remember when we met | |
| I was only seventeen | |
| I spent all my college money | |
| On a half a dozen strings | |
| I thought my folks would kill me | |
| I found out I was wrong | |
| They said your future' s written on your face | |
| When you sing those travelin' songs | |
| So we headed for Kentucky | |
| With a suitcase full of dreams | |
| My roughout books, a few tshirts | |
| A worn out pair of jeans | |
| Ooh... | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| We spent a lot of nights alone | |
| Well, sometimes we' d get lucky | |
| And take bar maid home | |
| One night stands for breakfast | |
| Two strangers with the blues | |
| We' d wake up in the morning | |
| And both feel a little used | |
| Well, home was just a highway | |
| We' d roam from town to town | |
| Just me and that old flattop | |
| Not caring where we' re bound | |
| From Maine to California | |
| With a five piece travelin' band | |
| Singin' songs about the hard times | |
| That face the common man | |
| Ooh... | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| Lord, we did the best we could | |
| One was born a sinner | |
| And one a piece of wood | |
| God sent a wooden angel | |
| To guide me on my way | |
| We were meant to be together | |
| Until my dyin' day | |
| Well, now my dearest old companion | |
| Lies underneath my bed | |
| Well, our travelin' days are over | |
| Man, but the memories fill my head | |
| Well, I' ve settled with my family | |
| Here in the hills of Tennessee | |
| To teach my children' s children | |
| ' Bout this old guitar and me | |
| Ooh... |
| zuò cí : Gill | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| And the things that we' ve been through | |
| C. F. Martin built him | |
| Back in nineteen fourtytwo | |
| I remember when we met | |
| I was only seventeen | |
| I spent all my college money | |
| On a half a dozen strings | |
| I thought my folks would kill me | |
| I found out I was wrong | |
| They said your future' s written on your face | |
| When you sing those travelin' songs | |
| So we headed for Kentucky | |
| With a suitcase full of dreams | |
| My roughout books, a few tshirts | |
| A worn out pair of jeans | |
| Ooh... | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| We spent a lot of nights alone | |
| Well, sometimes we' d get lucky | |
| And take bar maid home | |
| One night stands for breakfast | |
| Two strangers with the blues | |
| We' d wake up in the morning | |
| And both feel a little used | |
| Well, home was just a highway | |
| We' d roam from town to town | |
| Just me and that old flattop | |
| Not caring where we' re bound | |
| From Maine to California | |
| With a five piece travelin' band | |
| Singin' songs about the hard times | |
| That face the common man | |
| Ooh... | |
| This old guitar and me | |
| Lord, we did the best we could | |
| One was born a sinner | |
| And one a piece of wood | |
| God sent a wooden angel | |
| To guide me on my way | |
| We were meant to be together | |
| Until my dyin' day | |
| Well, now my dearest old companion | |
| Lies underneath my bed | |
| Well, our travelin' days are over | |
| Man, but the memories fill my head | |
| Well, I' ve settled with my family | |
| Here in the hills of Tennessee | |
| To teach my children' s children | |
| ' Bout this old guitar and me | |
| Ooh... |
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